


The Boy Who Lived

by GothamRogue81



Series: Scenes from Gotham City [1]
Category: Batfamily - Fandom, Batman (Comics), Birds of Prey (Comic), Huntress (Comics), RED HOOD/JASON TOOD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-05-03 02:16:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5272808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GothamRogue81/pseuds/GothamRogue81
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Meet Jason Todd, otherwise known as the Red Hood.  The second incarnation of Batman's trusty "Boy Wonder" Robin isn't exactly like his adopted brothers.  A serious chip on his shoulder has made him one of the Bat Family's more lethal members and those of Gotham's criminal underworld who don't know it, soon will.  But don't judge this book by it's cover...beneath the sarcasm and the cockiness lays a damaged individual with more skeletons in the closet than many would think.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Boy Who Lived

The Boy Who Lived

As the clock struck midnight, Rupert Thorne stood up. “I think we can call it a night, don’t you my friends?” he asked, leaning on his can. He was a large looming figure, despite his aged look. The four others sitting at the table in front of him stood as well. “We can continue our discussion tomorrow evening at the benefit dinner.”

Seated at the table were the heads of four of Gotham’s resident crime families. Dragos Ibenescu, the Romanian overlord of the slums, a man so vile he turned his own granddaughter out as a prostitute. The Ibenescu Crime family dealt mostly in the lower forms of crime: dog fights, human trafficking, and prostitution.

Vasily Kosov, the Don of the Odessa Crime Family, the Ukrainian syndicate recently taken over by Tobias Whale, sat next to him, and across from them, the heads of the Riley Crime Family and the Sabatino Crime family. The two sat uncomfortably at the table, visibly annoyed. Until recently they had been at odds over territories and businesses, but after Sean Riley married his daughter Peyton off to Johnny Sabatino to unify their families and bring peace to the two groups. Now the father and son in-laws were forced to pretend they liked one another.  
As the only female guest of Thorne’s, a stylish, yet professional looking blonde woman, stood up, she looked over at Thorne. “Rupert, you know that if Tobias or Falcone catch wind of this, the whole plan will be a bust, don’t you?” she asked in an aristocratic British accent. 

“Lady Vic,” he replied with a grin, “after all that hard work in Blüdhaven, I was sure that you of all people would have a little more faith in me.”

She smirked. “Oh I have plenty of faith in you Rupert. You’re the devil I know,” she replied, easing into a long burgundy coat. “It’s the devils I don’t know that I’m worried about.”

“If Falcone or Whale had an inkling of what was going on, I’m pretty sure we wouldn’t be standing here,” one of the others said.

Before anyone could say anything else, however, the sound of gunshots rang out from outside the room. The entire group dropped down, and Thorne and his guests were ushered as far back in the room as they could be.

“What the hell was that?” Thorne’s guard yelled into his comm. 

“Gunman….shooting up….get him out of here!” the broken voice on the other end of the line yelled. “Too good….heading your way…….run!”

The group looked at each other. “You were saying Vasily?” the third man said.

“Sir, we need to get you all out of here!” Thorne’s man said, interrupting them. Thorne nodded. The men in the room raised their guns and motioned towards the door. One of Grissom’s men grabbed the handle as Thorne’s second man aimed outside. They exited the room, covering the hallway as one motioned for the group to proceed.

In a huddled group, they made their way down hallway of the office building as gunfire echoed through the atrium. As the group rounded the corner, they froze in sync. Everything had become silent. The gunfire had ceased and the smell of death lingered. A voice called up from below, breaking the silence. “Good evening lady and gentlemen. I’m afraid all your friends down here decided to up and die on you, so it’s just us now,” the voice said in a chipper tone.

“Who is this freak?” whispered Dragos. “It does not sound like the Batman.”

“Whoever he is, he’s fucking dead!” Sean Riley stood up and drew out two pistols. He rushed over to the edge of the balcony and aimed the guns downwards. Before he could get a shot off, a bullet ripped through his head, leaving a small hole in the side of his cranium. He stumbled back and collapsed on the ground in front of the group.

“Holy shit!” Johnny shouted. “Thorne, what the hell is this?”

The voice below yelled up. “Now that wasn’t very nice! I guess there is no luck of the Irish after all,” they heard him laugh.

“Who are you? Did Falcone send you?” Thorne shouted over the railing.

“Falcone?! Why must you insult me? What did I do to you?” the voice responded. “Besides kill all your men down here.” He was a smart ass, whoever he was. “I mean, they did kind of have it coming, but still…”he said. 

“Tobias then?” shouted Vasily. 

“That blow-hard? Never!” the man below answered. The silence returned. Suddenly, they heard the hammer of a gun cock back. They turned to see the Red Hood standing there. He had to side pieces raised, but before he could let off a shot, Lady Vic had unleashed an attack from the side.

She came down hard with a sword on the guns, knocking them down and away from him. As he turned, she spun and kicked him in the chest. His black plated armor absorbed most of the damage, but the force did throw him back on the ground.

“Ooo, a lady!” he said, smirking behind his crimson helmet as he staggered to regain his footing. She kept coming, so he took a few retreating strides backwards before flipping forward and hitting her with an elbow to the jaw.

She rolled forward towards him, popping to her feet and smacking him on the sides of the helmet. Her hand hit the release and his hood retracted, folding back into his collar piece. “I like you!” he said as he head-butted her, smashing his forehead just above the black mask over his eyes. He rubbed his head as they both stumbled back.

“Dream on Yankee,” she said, grappling him and throwing her foot backwards, all the way around above her head and hitting his forehead. His temples pounded from the pain and she took the opportunity to sweep his feet. 

The group behind her used the opportunity to escape, leaving Lady Vic to deal with Red Hood. She dropped down, landing her knee on his throat. “You’re one of his aren’t you?”

“Who?” he asked. “The Bat?” His hand slowly went up her leg and thigh to the back of her right leg. With a shove, he thrust her forward and moved out of the way as she tumbled forward, rolling back up to her feet in a defensive stance. “Do I look like one of his?”

She laughed. “As a matter of fact...,” she said. They circled one another. “So if you’re not working for Falcone or Whale, and you’re not working with The Batman, then who do you work for?” she asked, raising her blade.

He smirked. “Isn’t it obvious?” he asked. “I work for me!” he said. He dropped a smoke pellet and she rushed through with the sword, but as it cleared quickly, she realized he was gone.

 

On the rooftop, Red Hood stood perched on the edge of the building watching as several black cars pulled out of garage beneath the building and raced off into the night. From behind him a female voice called out, “You let them get away?”

He turned and rolled his eyes. “You really think that less of me?” he asked. “You know me better than that Helena.” He smirked and tossed her the transponder in his hand.

“How’d you manage that?” she asked with a grin. “It looked like she kept you a little off balance in there.”

He scoffed, lighting up a cigarette and taking a drag. “She only got as close as I wanted her to get. I slipped it on her while we were fooling around,” he said. “Pretty tight ass for a Brit too!” 

She shook her head. “And the point of letting them go would be?” she asked, annoyed. She watched them drive off and clenched her teeth.

“Just trust me. I know you want him death, but they want Tobias Whale and Carmine Falcone dead. So we’ll let them weaken each other a bit,” he said, flicking the cigarette and nudging her playfully. “I promise you, you’ll have your day. Oracle will follow the signal and find out where Lady V has ran off to and we’ll follow their movements.”

Huntress tapped her com link, “B, do you have her?” she asked.

Oracle replied over the coms, “Loud and clear. She’s heading south, towards Miller Harbor. I’ve got the girls heading that way and then we’ll be able to set a tail on her.” 

“See?” he asked. “Mission accomplished!” he nudged her. “Don’t worry. You’ll have your chance, I promise.”

It had been sixteen years since her family had been executed in front of her in their home on Harrison Ave. She was eight years old and was forced to watch as members of the Odessa Crime Family forced her mother, brother, uncle, aunt and two cousins to their knees and shot point blank in the back of their heads in the living room. As an extra merit of torture to her father, Frank Bertinelli, he was forced to watch as three of the men took Helena’s innocence right in front of him while several others restrained him and laughed.

When it was over, Helena lay on her side screaming and crying on the hard wood floor which was covered in Bertinelli blood and watched them slit her father’s throat. He fell over on the floor across from her and she watched him die. After being sold to the Ibenescu Family’s human trafficking operation, Helena suffered several years of abuse until the Dark Knight himself intervened.

He had been tracking several members of the organization and his investigation had led him to the safe house where she, along with several other girls were being kept and used. She remembered that night like it was yesterday. She watched as The Batman threw punches and blocked attacks, throwing the thugs through walls and tables. She felt him take her hand and pull her in to the warm darkness of a safe embrace, tears streaming from her face as she realized her nightmare had finally come to an end.

It wasn’t until the dust cleared some time later, that a spark ignited inside her. She shed the victim she had been and began to harbor anger and began to channel it into strengthening herself. She looked at her hero as a beacon of what she could become. She knew what he stood for. She saw up close that he was just a man, but that he stood for so much more. If he could do it, so could she. She too would become a beacon in the night, and while he set his sights on the psychopathic over-the-top villains of Gotham, she would target the ones she knew best: the criminals of Gotham’s underworld, who she had grown up around from birth. 

Helena followed Batman for several months. She listened to the police ban broadcasts and would traverse the rooftops of Gotham towards whatever situations she could pick up, that sounded like he would be there. From afar, she would watch him in action, taking into note his suit, tools and tactics.

That was two years ago, and now she stood on a rooftop with one of his former wards, biding time until she would finally get the chance to avenge not only her parents deaths, but her own trauma. She wondered sometimes if Batman knew who she was; if he had ever connected the dots and figured out that he had rescued her and set her on her new path. She knew he didn’t approve of her style, but she didn’t care. She and the Hood seemed to bond over that. They were both allies to the Dark Knight, but lacked his iron clad moral code. They were both willing to do what was necessary despite the morality that may be questioned in doing so.

“Keep me posted?” she asked him as she continued watching the vehicles. He touched her shoulder and nodded. She reached up and touched his hand in a silent ‘thank you’. And then she was gone.

“Where are the rest of the boys?” he asked out loud.

Oracles voice came through the com in his ear. “Robin is with the big man, Red and Spoiler are off tonight…date night...,” she replied. “Nightwing is out on patrol. But leave him alone Hood. It’s not a good night.”

He knew why. “I know what night it is,” he said. “He IS my brother after all.”

On the other end of the transmission Barbara Gordon smiled. “You do care,” she said.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” he scoffed. “We’re bothers. I know what day it is. That’s all I’m saying.”

“Just be nice, ok?” she said. “Why don’t you take the rest of the night off?” she asked. “You did good work tonight...with the exception of the whole blowing-a-mobster’s-brains-out thing.” He could picture the disgusted look she must have been wearing as she said it.

“Oh, sure…” he said, “ Maybe I’ll go hang out at the mall or catch a movie, as if I was a normal guy.”

“Jason…you are normal,” she said. “As normal as any of us can be. You coming back doesn’t change who you are. You’re still the same guy, you’re just a little different; a lot of those changes being your own choice, remember that.”

He rolled his eyes beneath the black eye mask. “Thanks Mom,” he said, as usual, using sarcasm to divert the moment of tender honesty between the two. “I’ll let you go. I wouldn’t want my big brother to get jealous of me tying up the line all night with his girlfriend.”

She signed. He was difficult and she was too tired to try to get through any further than she believed she already had. She was satisfied with the progress. “Good night Jay.” The com line went silent and he scaled down the building to the motorcycle waiting in the alley. 

While he had a lot in common with Helena when it came to his style of crime fighting, he had just as much in common with Barbara Gordon. They shared a special bond that neither liked to acknowledge: they were both victims of the Joker. They were both important enough to Batman that they had been targeted by his archenemy who knew that striking at them is the best way to strike at The Bat. 

While Jason was “killed” by the Joker, and managed to be resurrected, Barbara on the other hand had a more permanent outcome. She would never walk again. Their lives were both upended and would never be the same again. However, Barbara understood him better than anyone else. She knew what he knew and, though he’d never admit it, he appreciated and respected her the most because of this shared bond. She knew that while he could walk, talk and breathe and was strong and out there fighting crime, he was broken inside. She saw through the cockiness and sarcasm that he used to hide the internal scars from what had happened to him. He also knew that, despite both of them sharing those scars, she had managed to come out of it optimistic, pleasant and warm. This was a stark contrast against Jason’s own pessimistic, unpleasant and cold demeanor. It was because of this, that he admired her. 

It wasn’t a physical or sexual attraction, but he was drawn to her. The sarcasm-laden walls that he had built up around him kept him from being honest to himself, or to her, about this, but deep down he knew. Out of all of the so-called “Bat Family”, he felt the closest to her.

“Stupid chick…get out of my head!” he said to himself. It was late, but he wasn’t tired or ready to call it a night, so he changed in the alley, hopped on the motorcycle and headed towards the Bowery to try and find some trouble in Jason Todd mode. 

If you asked any of his siblings, they might tell you that Jason would spend his nights in some seedy bar with a jukebox full of rock or punk songs, picking fights and hitting on girls. However, they’d be very wrong. He parked the bike in another alley and tugged on the collar of his brown leather jacket, before walking past the doorman of “The 5-Spot”. 

As he opened the door, the sound of a brass band rang out into the street and a smile crossed his face. The club was a 1920’s style jazz club, complete with authentic music of the era. On stage, a brass band played a 1920’s version of “Empire State of Mind”. Aside from the atmosphere and music, Jason found this place to be his favorite because it was one of the few clubs in Gotham where you could still smoke inside.

He lit up a cigarette and pulled up a seat at the bar, surveying the scene. There were many average citizens of Gotham laughing and drinking in their large, white circular booths and the room had a feel of having been transported to a better, easier and more fun time. Jason pulled up a stool and a bartender dressed in black with slicked back jet black hair came over to him.

He grinned, “Mr. Todd, what’ll it be tonight?” he leaned on the bar waiting for his order.

“French 75,” he answered. The bartender began to mix the drink. “Quiet tonight?” Jason asked as he watched. 

“A little bit,” he answered, mixing the gin, syrup and lemon juice and shaking over his shoulder. “How about out there?” he asked.

Jason smirked. “Like the dead,” he replied. The bartender strained the mixer into an iced glass, and topped it off with Champagne before gently stirring it and sliding it in front of him.

“Any news for me?” he asked taking a sip.

The bartender shook his head. “Nothing new,” he said. “He hasn’t been seen around here the past few weeks. Come to think of it, neither have you.”

Jason shrugged. “You know me,” he said. “Ever the nomad.”

The bartender laughed. “I’m dying to know,” he started, “Why does one of the adopted Wayne boys hang out in this part of the city anyway?”

“Why do you think?” Jason shot back with a smile and sip of his drink. “To escape the rest of the Wayne boys.”

“You are certainly a mystery Mr. Todd,” the bartender snickered and walked down the end of the bar to a beckoning customer, leaving Jason to drink alone and continue taking in the atmosphere to the sounds of “No Diggity” being performed by a sultry Gotham siren with a piano/clarinet/muted trumpet/drum quartet.

He listened to a few songs, drinking his cocktail, and enjoying the atmosphere. He made eye contact with a blonde haired girl across the bar. From the way she was dressed, she was a college student; probably an art major. He always thought the college kids who came here were either brave or stupid. The Bowery wasn’t exactly the best part of town. It wasn’t the most dangerous, but it did border Crime Alley.  
She smiled and he laughed to himself. She looked down shyly, playing coy. He leaned back against the bar and took another drink. From behind him, the bartender leaned in towards him. “Surprise surprise. You’ve got an admirer,” he said.

Jason turned his head looking towards him. “Not my type,” he said.

“And what exactly is your type?” the bartender asked.

“I like brunettes,” he said, laying some money down on the bar, much more than what was owed. “I’m into the tall ones too.” He swallowed the last of his drink. “And of course, someone who can handle their liquor.” 

The bartender grinned and watched Jason scoop up his coat and walk out.

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of those aformentioned things we're I've done a little reworking to a character. It's subtle, or at least it is until the end and I know some people may get a little bent out of shape about it, but I think Jason Todd is one of those really unique complex characters that has a lot going on inside of his head and I just wanted to give him a little extra somethign to mix it all up. 
> 
> I was told the first chapter was a little lengthy. For that I apologize. I'm used to writing in Word and sticking to 8-12 page chapters on projects I'm working on, so I didn't realize how long they'd look on here. Here I was worried that it wouldn't be considered long enough.


End file.
